


pretty boy and him

by richurro



Series: 500 [5]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: ? - Freeform, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, And they were soulmates, Angst, Fluff, Highschool AU, M/M, Prompt Fic, Trans Tyler Joseph, alternative universe, ig, josh is a sweetie, joshler - Freeform, more than 2000 words, they cute, theyre both artists, trans tyler, uh what else do i put, yayy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-13
Updated: 2019-04-13
Packaged: 2020-01-12 22:46:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,923
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18456158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/richurro/pseuds/richurro
Summary: prompt: you’ve unknowingly been drawing your soulmate ever since you could pick up a pencil





	pretty boy and him

**Author's Note:**

> 04.11-13.19

Thunder rumbles from beyond the window pane Josh is sitting beside, dark clouds crowded overhead, looming ominously in threat.

Josh blinks tiredly, down at the page of his sketchbook, searching his current sketch for any imperfections. It doesn't, of course; he's drawn this particular face many times before. He's got every feature engraved into his mind; every stroke from his pencil is predictable, built into his muscle memory. He can practically draw this face with his eyes closed.

"Okay so, tea," Brendon starts quietly, scooting closer to Josh, distracting him from his semi-realistic drawing. Josh turns slightly to meet his gaze, raising an eyebrow. "Well, more like news, but also, like, tea, y'know?" Brendon says, tilting his head for effect.

Josh nods once, amused. "Alright, so...one: there's a new student in our grade. Two: according to Hayley and Jenna, he's _quite_ the looker. And three: totally different from the other two, but guess who found their soulmate last night,"

Josh's eyes widen in shock. "No way, really? How?" He whispers, not wanting to disturb their teacher's lecture.

Brendon beams, eyes practically sparkling at the question. "Y'know that dinner my parents had to go to for work or whatever? Uh, they brought me with them because it was one of those "bring the whole family deals" and like, dude. My parents' employer Mr. Ross only brought his kid 'cuz he's divorced or whatever, and y'know how I can hear my soulmate's thoughts and vice versa? Yeah, so, I said hi 'cuz like, I thought, " _Y'know_ _what?_ _He_ _kinda_ — _he_ _kinda_ _cute_ _or_ _whatevah_." And then the first thing I heard from my soulmate was " _He_ _has_ _a_ _big_ _forehead_."

Josh snickers and Brendon shushes him before continuing.

"So like, I was like " _what_ _the_ _fuck?_ " So in my head I went " _Ryan?_ " And then he goes " _Brendon?_ " So like, yeah, I met my soulmate and the first thing he thought was " _He_ _has_ _a_ _big_ _forehead_." Like, what the fuck? So not sexy."

Josh laughs into his palm, trying to keep quiet. "That's amazing. Imagine telling your kids how you met. "So I thought, " _He's_ _really_ _cute_ ," and then your Dad thought " _He_ _has_ _a_ _big_ _forehead_ ," and then we fell in love," He impersonates.

Brendon scrunches his nose and sticks out his tongue. "You're just jealous 'cuz you're lonely,"

—

It isn't until after school that Josh hears about this new kid again, their name falling from Ashley's lips as his friend group lingers in front of the school building.

Tyler, their name is. Well, _his_ name, Josh finds out.

"He's nice," Ashley comments, "I have him for history. He actually _is_ kinda cute,"

"Right?" Jenna quips, smiling.

Josh pays them no mind, spacing out where he sits on a bench, sketching in the book perched on his lap. Brendon, Jenna, Ashley, Hayley, and Pete continue to spew nonsense back and forth as Josh loses himself in a detailed drawing of a pair of eyes.

"Hey Josh, you've met Tyler?" Pete then asks, tapping on Josh's sketchbook to get his attention. Josh glances up before shaking his head and going back to his drawing.

"Nah. He seems cool though," he replies, frowning at his drawing. He had accidentally smudged the graphite near the right eye.

He's erasing his mistake as Ashley speaks up, plopping herself right beside Josh. "Totally! He's in the art program too, y'know."

Josh blinks up at her. "Oh, sweet. He coming with us to the park?" He asks, referring to their group's usual hangout place right down the street. Ashley shrugs and looks down at Josh's sketchbook, intrigued.

"I dunno, Dallon's not here yet and I don't have Tyler's number or anything," she says, watching Josh as he starts to sketch again, "Hey, those eyes look familiar,"

"They're the ones I always do. Are you sure Brendon doesn't know Tyler's number?" Josh asks, lightly feathering eyelashes onto his drawing.

"Uh, dunno." She shrugs before turning away from Josh, "Bren, do you have Tyler's number?"

Josh darkens the pupils.

"Uh, yeah, why?"

Josh shades the eyelids. 

"To invite him,"

Josh shapes the eyebrows.

"Oh, I already did. He's coming,"

Josh looks up at Brendon, surprised. "Oh, really?"

Brendon nods. "Yeah, he's—hey, that looks sick!" He exclaims, quickly grabbing Josh's sketchbook out of his lap and inspecting the page. Josh had grown used to this, he doesn't mind.

"Looks familiar," he squints, turning the book at different angles. Josh stands and snatches it from his hands before he could smudge anything.

"Y'know, Tyler—"

"Is in the art program too, I know. Ash told me already," Josh says, flipping his sketchbook shut and unzipping his bag, sliding it inside.

"Yeah, and—oh look, there he is! Tyjo! 'Sup man!" Brendon grins, jogging over to the strolling figure. The group unconsciously migrates toward the new kid Josh has yet to meet.

Josh blows a raspberry at he and Brendon's interrupted conversation and busies himself buy zipping up his bag properly, swinging it over his shoulders and standing from the bench.

"Josh," Brendon smiles, arm wrapped around the shoulders of a familiar figure. Josh freezes. "This is Tyler. Tyler, this is Josh,"

Tyler stands a few inches taller than Josh. He has fluffy brown hair, sparse eyebrows, and kind doe eyes. His nose is cutely pointed and his lips are a warm shade of peach. His limbs are long and lanky; he's thin and his shirt is baggy.

He's on every page of Josh's sketchbook.

"What the fuck," Josh says. Only he doesn't, instead he opts for, "Hi,"

Tyler only gapes at him. Josh shifts uncomfortably, internally freaking out.

Tyler is in his sketchbook...Tyler is _in_ his sketchbook...What the _fuck_...What the hell is going on?...Tyler is in his goddamn sketchbook! And not just this one, but the one _before_ that! _And_ before _that!_

...Josh has unknowingly been drawing him since for years. What the fu—

"I, um, hey," Tyler finally stutters out. Josh's stomach churns.

"Hi," he repeats nervously, not knowing what else to say. He tries to refrain himself from losing himself in Tyler's eyes, ultimately giving in.

He's seen Tyler, has _been_ seeing Tyler for years now...And yet, seeing him in real life, _in_ _person_ , was _so_ much better than any portrait Josh's hands could draw.

What's...going...on?

—

Fortunately for Josh, the clouds above finally put an end to the suspense, starting with a drizzle in attempts to scare them off. The group had been heading down the street toward the park when they all collectively decided to postpone their playground shenanigans and head home instead.

 _Unfortunately_ for Josh, the group had disbanded in different directions, coincidently leaving him and Tyler walking down the same street.

They walk quietly, a thick blanket of awkwardness engulfing both their forms. Josh tries not to stare at how beautiful Tyler looked in front of the dreadfully darkening sky.

 _New_ _art_ _concept_ , Josh thinks faintly.

It isn't until Josh's house is in sight that the clouds above them growl in determination, pouring buckets of rain over them in a matter of seconds.

Tyler shrieks in surprise and Josh latches onto his wrist instinctively, breaking into a run and pulling him along. Tyler follows without hesitation, matching Josh's quick pace.

They manage to make it up Josh's front porch steps without slipping, both completely drenched. "Jesus Christ," Tyler mutters, wrapping his arms around himself.

Josh takes a deep breath, hands on his knees. "How's that for your first day of school?" He laughs airly.

Tyler chuckles, shivering from the cold. "I still gotta get home,"

Josh looks at him, eyebrows raised. The rain continues to patter on the roof harshly, the sound bouncing off loudly. "Oh hell no, you'll get sick or something," Josh tells him, slipping off his bag. He digs into the smaller pocket and fishes out his house key, jamming it into the keyhole.

Before Tyler could protest, Josh yanks him inside the warm house, closing the door. "No one's home right now, don't worry." Josh tells him, flicking on the hallway light. Tyler follows him upstairs, both their shoe soles squeaking with every move they made.

Josh leads him into his room, strolling over to his dressers and picking out clothes to change into. "Do you need anything to change into?" He asks.

Tyler stares at Josh's walls with wide eyes. "I-I have my gym clothes in my bag," he tells him, not making eye contact. Josh pays no mind.

"Okay, uh, I'll get some towels. You change," Josh says, leaving the room with a handful of clothes. He enters the bathroom and quickly swaps his clothes for the dry ones, leaving the sopping wet uniform on the tiled floor.

He grabs some clean towels from the shelf over the toilet and heads back to his room, knocking on the door. "Tyler? I've got towels," he calls, hesitantly turning the doorknob.

It's unlocked so Josh walks inside. "Ty—"

Josh freezes. Tyler is at his desk, clad in a pair of sweatpants and an oversized hoodie. He's sifting through the many finished drawings Josh has stuffed into a tan colored folder titled _Pretty_ _Boy_.

They're all works of Tyler, of course.

Tyler looks up from the drawings, an indecipherable look on his face. Josh walks to his bed and drops the towels onto the mattress. "Tyler, I can explain—"

Tyler ignores him and grabs his bag off the floor, harshly digging through it. "Tyler—" Josh starts.

"I thought I was crazy," Tyler interrupts, shoving the book into Josh's hands, grinning wide, "I thought I was losing my goddamn mind! But I get it now! I'm so dumb!"

Josh furrows his eyebrows. "What?"

"Look," Tyler says, referring to the book. Josh turns it in his hands, only now realizing he was holding Tyler's sketchbook.

Josh glances up at him, hesitant. Tyler smiles expectantly.

Josh looks back down at the clean cover, running a thumb over the only word in the middle.

 _Him_ it reads, in what must be Tyler's handwriting.

Josh opens the book, flicking to the first page. It has Property of Tyler R. Joseph written near the top, followed by his information. Josh flips to the next page, his breath hitching.

It's a watercolor portrait of Josh, his hair a mint green, seeping out of the thin lineart. It's dated back about two months ago.

Josh's heart flutters as he continues to flick through the sketchbook; each page is filled with drawings of him. There are colored profiles, full bodies, and even simple sketches of things like his eyes and hands.

"I didn't think I had a soulmate," Josh whispers, finally connecting the dots as he flips to the most recent page. It's a pen sketch from yesterday; Josh is smiling, his hair a fiery red.

"Me neither, but it makes sense right? I've been drawing you forever," Tyler grins.

Josh grins back. "Yeah me too, obviously...I'm dumb, I should've said something. I recognized you instantly,"

"I did too," Tyler says, taking back his sketchbook, "We're both dumb, I guess,"

They laugh, smiling at one another as they both sit on Josh's bed. "How did you know what my hair color was?" Josh then asks.

Tyler shrugs. "I just felt like making your hair red," he tells him. "I actually remember the first time I felt like making your hair a different color." He adds.

"Really?"

Tyler nods. "Yeah, seventh grade, I think? One day I was coloring it brown and the next I felt like pink suit you better," he says, opening up his sketchbook in his lap.

"I have more sketchbooks at home," Tyler adds, flipping to a specific page and presenting it to Josh, "This is when you dyed your hair red, right?"

Tyler points to the date on the top of the page. It's a drawing of Josh from the waist up, shirtless and shrugging, holding his hands out. They were as red as his hair.

Josh nods in confirmation. "Yeah, that's right," he says as Tyler smiles proudly.

Josh stands from where he sat and heads toward his closet, sliding it open. He crouches down and grabs a cardboard box from the floor, excitedly rushing back to the bed. He plops it onto the mattress and begins to empty its contents.

Sketchbooks upon sketchbooks are pulled out, dating back years ago. Josh grabs the four year old sketchbook from eighth grade, flipping it open quickly and placing it into Tyler's hands.

"I remember when I stopped drawing you as a girl and decided that you were a boy. I remember you shaving your head," Josh says as Tyler looks through the drawings of that specific time.

Most include Tyler with a shaved head, wearing baggy clothing, smiling wide. Some have him shirtless, wearing a binder.

Tyler grins up at him, eyes teary. "I came out as trans that day. My parents were really supportive," he says.

They spend the next hour looking through Josh's sketchbooks, sharing memories as the rain died down outside.

Josh remembered Tyler going to his first pride in the summer of eighth grade, wearing a trans flag as a cape.

Tyler remembered Josh getting a lip piercing in ninth grade and absolutely adoring the way it looked.

Josh remembered Tyler getting the tattoo on his wrist on his sixteenth birthday and not drawing anything but his hands for a week.

Tyler remembered Josh getting gauges last year.

"Tenth grade...My mom got really disturbed by my work," Josh whispers, showing Tyler the sketchbook instead of elaborating.

The sketches were anything but appropriate for a fifteen year old to be drawing. They consisted of Tyler crying, bleeding, and afflicting damage upon himself. They were all depressing and painful to look at; possibly even borderline triggering.

There were nooses, razors, and pills. Dark concept pieces of Tyler drowning, choking, and dying from the inside out.

Tyler flipped through them solemnly.

"She almost made me go to therapy...It hurt to draw those, Tyler...I don't know why I did," Josh admits.

Tyler closes the book and takes Josh's hands in his, squeezing them reassuringly. "Tenth grade...I went through a bit of a rut. There was just so many things happening in my head all at once...I couldn't handle it...But—But I'm better now, I promise. I went to therapy—I _am_ in therapy, I'm on medication,"

"What for?" Josh asks gently.

"Uh, I'm on antidepressants. I'm in therapy for depression, suicidal thoughts, anxiety, and gender dysphoria," Tyler answers.

Josh squeezes his palms. "I'm so sorry you went through that...I'm glad you're better,"

Tyler smiles softly. "Me too."

Josh smiles back and pulls his hands away, standing. "I remembered something else," he says, walking over to his desk.

He grabs the canvas that had been pinned to the wall and takes it down, walking back to the bed. He places it down and then goes to his closet, awkwardly twisting his body to grab the canvas pinned behind the door.

He walks back to the bed and Tyler stands as Josh places the painting down beside the first.

"You probably saw this one," Josh starts, tapping on the one that was on the wall, "but _this_ was the first concept," Josh points at the other canvas as Tyler marvels over both.

The first one is Tyler's bust, mostly his head and shoulders; he's shirtless and his hands come up near his head, each one gripping the opposite ends of the rope that wrapped around his neck. It's done in acrylic, warm nude tones making up Tyler's skin. His eyes are peacefully closed as his neck is straining a pinkish color.

The second one, the original concept, is done with the same type of theme, warm and fleshy. Only this one is done with watercolor instead of acrylic, darker tones such as blue and indigo making an appearance. It's Tyler's bust again, showing a bit of his chest; he's in a position where his left shoulder is slightly turned as he looks forward at a three quarter angle, dark pools under his eyes.

His expression is tired and careless, lips slightly parted. The rope around his neck is a noose, the end disappearing over the top of the canvas and then coming back down, being held loosely in Tyler's left hand. There are white scars on his wrists and his neck is a faint purple.

Tyler stares at himself with wide eyes. "It's beautiful," he whispers.

Josh smiles down at them. "I didn't want to submit the original since it seemed too dark," he explains before pointing at the one that was on the wall, "but this one got me into the art program."

Tyler's eyes widen even farther. "No shit!"

Josh nods. "Yeah, they liked the piece. They even asked if it was a model that I painted. I said no, but obviously I was wrong,"

Tyler barks out a laugh, blushing. "Jesus Christ,"

When Josh grins at him Tyler whispers, "Would it be weird if I said I really want you to kiss me right now?"

Josh shakes his head instantly, heart pounding against his ribcage. "No. Would it be weird if I did?" He asks softly.

Tyler shakes his head. "No," he murmurs, eyes flicking down to Josh's lips.

Josh then gently places a hand on Tyler's cheek, leaning in. Tyler meets him halfway, hands on Josh's hips. Their lips meet sweetly and Josh feels like he's on cloud nine.

Take that, Brendon.

**Author's Note:**

> why did this take so long to write sksjsk


End file.
